The Lady Sings The Blues
by Snodin
Summary: Let me tell you the story of how I met the perfect man... only to find out he's not a man at all. One-shot, one-sided romance. Rated for suggestive themes (though it's not dark, trust me).


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"**THE LADY SINGS THE BLUES"**

**A "Mega Man" Story**

**Snodin**

**Set in the Classic Series**

**.**

My name is Julianna, and I'm a hopeless romantic.

I'm at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, and have gone through more boyfriends than I could count. Most of them were just small flings; a guy gives me a smile, I give him my number, we share a few drinks and that's pretty much it. But it all counts for me, because I'm one of those girls who has dedicated most of her pitiful life in finding "The One." You know who he is- the one who will wow you the moment you see him, the one who'll call you every other day just to tell you he loves you, the one who _won't_ just up and leave the morning after a night of passionate romance and is never seen again.

_Sigh._

Yes, I realize that my love life is the pits, but at least I haven't yet given up on love. …At least, not yet.

Still… there are times when I ask myself if I've gone too far, if my need for companionship is my own undoing. I can recall one time when it had, and it nearly cost me my life.

Let me tell you the story about how I met the perfect man… so perfect, in fact, he turned out to be more than he seemed.

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**Mega City, the year 20XX.**

I had started working in the heart of the city that fall, as a secretary for an up and coming law firm. The hours were long and mostly boring, and the trek from my house to the building took two trains and a subway, but it was good pay. Besides, I was happy to work in the city- there was so much to take in, so many new people to meet. So many single men to… Whoops, there I go again.

Anyway, I started out as my usual bubbly self, dressing in short skirts and letting my short, curly auburn hair flow in the wind as I kicked my high heels down the streets. My goal was to give off a positive vibe to anyone who took two seconds to stop and notice me. But no one seemed to; they were busy waving for taxis and reading their newspapers on the sidewalks. Weeks turned to months, and I was still single and lonely. Feeling sorry for myself, I had begun to dress in thicker clothes and a hat to cover my hair, and I traded in my skirts for pants. I started to look less like a young, bouncy girl, and more like the business tycoons marching down the street in their slow, humdrum manner. I was truly part of the city now.

After a while, I started to ignore the little things that kept my spirits up- the blue sky, the singing birds, and the smiles on some people that walked by. Everything started to look grey and dismal, as though something otherworldly had sucked all the life out of me. Was this truly what it meant to be a city girl? Have I finally fit in? Because if so, I think I'd rather go back to the suburbs and try out hairdressing again. It was a silly job, and I wasn't all that great at it, but darn it I was at least happy!

I was in just that kind of a funk when, on one particularly cold and gloomy day, I was marching out of my subway cart and through the terminal, when suddenly I was struck by the sound of a soft guitar strumming in the distance, followed by a truly angelic male voice:

"_If you ever, ever change your mind_

_About leaving, leaving me behind, ba-by,_

_Bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin'_

_Bring it on home to me. Yeah… yeah… yeah._

"_I know I laughed, when you left,_

_But now I know I only hurt myself. Ba-by!_

_Bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin',_

_Bring it on home to me. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…"_

For once, since my first trek through the subway station, I stopped in my tracks. This place was a cold and grim as any dungeon, and yet this voice… this soft, tender and slightly gravelly voice, seized me. I couldn't remember the last time I heard someone with such soul, such passion… I had to find him, I just had to.

"_I'll give you jewelry, and money too,_

_But that ain't all, that ain't all I'll do for you, ba-by._

_Bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin',_

_Bring it on home to me. Yeah.. Yeah.. Yeah…"_

With high spirits, I dashed through the station's walkways, around still people in their usual zombie gaits, until at last I found him. My green eyes gazed upon him, this vagabond leaning up against a stone wall with his gritty old guitar, singing his heart out despite everyone else ignoring him.

He was a young man, perhaps a bit younger than me. His hair was a deep brown and a bit ratty, as though he had given up on caring for it a long time ago. His bangs covered most of his brow, and his black, sharp-edged sunglasses covered his eyes. He wore a rugged brown trench coat with equally dark pants and shoes, but the one color he had was a bright yellow scarf that was wrapped around his neck.

As I stared blankly at him, something hit me: I knew this song! It was a very old song, but one my mother used to play as she liked old Bluesy tunes. When the time was right, I found myself joining in.

"_You know I'll always be your slave_

'_Till I'm buried, buried in my grave. Oh, honey,_

_Bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin',_

_Bring it on home to me. Yeah."_

"_Yeah!" _I sang.

"_Yea-ah!" _He echoed with a smile.

"_Yeah." _I smiled back.

"_Yeah. One more thing:_

_I tried to treat you right,_

_But you stayed out, stayed out late at night_

_But I forgive you._

_Bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin',_

_Bring it on home to me. Yeah…"_

"…I love that song," I said almost absent-mindedly.

"Me too," replied the young man with the golden voice. "A lot of people forget the classics."

I was so taken by his pleasantness that I decided to strike a conversation with the vagabond. "So… Do you come here every day?"

"Not every day, no… I was just bored."

"…I'm Juliana."

He gave me a small nod, as though he were too shy to say his own name.

"I'm sorry. I don't usually just walk up to strangers and… I just… I couldn't help myself. Your voice… it's really…" Beautiful. Say it, you idiot! It's one word, say it! "…Nice." God, no wonder you're single.

He smiled. "Why thank you. Wanna hear another one? I got a whole library of 'em."

I was already running a bit late, but I was in a good mood, my first good mood in a long time. "Sure," I shrugged.

"Okay," he replied as he raised his guitar for another session. "This one's a Sam Cooke too."

"A what?"

"Heh. It's Gospel-Blues. You may know it…"

He started to strum the ever familiar chords of a classic Blues tune in a minor key. It certainly felt familiar, but I wasn't brave enough to speak while his voice spilled out. It was far too perfect to speak over.

"_Just another day that my Lord, my Lord has kept me, yes it is,_

_Just another day that I've been in my Savior's care- yes it is._

_Wanna say He threw, He through His loving arms all around me, yes He did_

_And then I found, I found peace and joy right there._

"_Just another day, I've been workin' in God's vineyard, O yeah,_

_Just another day, you know He kept me by His side. Woah, yes He did,_

_He said, 'I know just how hard you been laborin'.'_

_He said, 'I want you to sit down, rest a while.'_

"_Well, when I get on home in my Lord's kingdom, O yes,_

_I'm gonna sit down, sit on down all around His throne-"_

"Crap!" I gasped.

"Huh?" he peed, as his fingers were stirred to the point of hitting the wrong chords.

Fearing I had offended him, I was quick to say, "Oh no-no-no-no! I didn't mean_ you_ were crap! I just meant… I'm running late!"

"Ah," he said with a tone of understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Mister…?"

"Johnson. Robert Johnson."

"Mister Johnson. I, I gotta go."

"It's okay. I'll see you around, maybe."

"Yeah. Hopefully… Well, bye!" I was set to take off, when I suddenly felt the urge to correct my past slip of the tongue. "Your voice is really nice!"

"Thank you again."

Damn it. I said "nice" again. I really am a loser.

"…Bye!" I dashed for the nearest exit.

"Goodbye," I heard him speak, as pleasantly as ever.

The rest of the day turned out to be as boring as usual, but at least now I had a song in my head. All the day, and for the next few days to follow, I found myself humming the blues with a new sense of wonder in my heart.

..

..

Two weeks later, I was invited with a few work friends to a small restaurant downtown for an evening of food, drink and entertainment. I dressed in a deep blue blouse with a long matching skirt so as to look professional among my peers, but had no idea where we were going.

As it turns out, the place we went had a small stage where amateur musicians could play while people could enjoy their meals and some music on the side. For the first two hours though, there was a dead silence as it seemed we arrived early for that night's entertainment to show up. But then, out of nowhere, that familiar voice:

"_Where, O where, is the girl that I found?_

_She was the best, the sweetest thing in this broken down town._

_Where… can this girl be now?_

_She used to make me feel like God when she'd go it on down._

_But now she got no time for playin' wit' me, ("No!")_

_Got no time to shake it wit' me, ("No!")_

_Got to time to make it wit' me, ("No!")_

_Got me feelin' I'm nobody. ("Yeah!")_

_I know what you want me to do, ("What?")_

_You know what you want me to do, ("What?")_

_Compromise the struggle wit' you, ("Ugh!")_

_Compromise, but I ain't got_

_Time… for this,_

_When there ain't no time, no time, no time for this."_

I couldn't believe it, it was _him_! Sitting on a stool onstage, accompanied with a band of generic-looking robots with their own instruments, was my golden-voiced vagabond. The band, it seemed, was set up by the restaurant owner as backups for solo artists, complete with percussion, piano, guitars, and even brass horns. His appearance changed slightly; no longer ratty looking, he was in a sleek brown coat, a grey suit underneath, and his yellow scarf tucked in to look more like an ascot. And his shades were now a bright yellow, though I still couldn't see his eyes.

He sang with that same passion in his voice, as though he were truly lamenting a lost love. I had soon forgotten all about my co-workers and focused solely on him. After a while, they started to get up and leave, but I decided to stay a while longer and hear my angel.

Two more songs went by, and I found myself with a man who had offered me a drink at the bar. Not one to turn down a drink- or a man for that matter- I took him up on his offer, though my focus was still elsewhere. He seemed nice enough, this stranger who had suddenly taken a shining to me, but he seemed a bit more interested in drinking. He was likely a regular at that bar, though I still wasn't bothered.

But then the music stopped; curiously, I glanced away from my would-be date for a moment to look up at the stage. The robot band was stilled; was my angel taking a break? I looked back at the man sitting beside me, and reached for my glass, when without warning a gloved hand shielded it from me.

"I think the lady's had enough for tonight," said the singer with yellow visors.

"Hey!" barked the man by my side. "Who do you think you are, coming over here to tell us what to do? Huh?"

Confused, I looked to my vagabond with a frown. He gave me a small shake of the head, as though warning me not to take that next drink. Instinct took over; that's right! I took my eyes off of my cup for a few seconds, who knows what he could have slipped in it? I gave my hero a nod in compliance. He was looking out for me.

"Get lost pal," said the taller, more muscular man as he got up from his seat and stared down my vagabond. "She's with me."

"That remains to be seen," said my hero. He then looked to me and kindly asked, "Are you with him?"

I took a breath and bravely said, "You know? I think it's getting late. I should head home."

"She ain't goin' anywhere with you pal," warned the drunkard. "Here honey, take one more sip."

**SLAM!** My hero's gloved hand fell down on that tainted glass like a flyswatter, and it shattered into a million pieces.

"Why you…!"

That's when I saw my would-be date's true colors come out: he flustered red with rage and took a swing at my friend. To my surprise, and everyone else's, my friend not only caught the punch but he squeezed it tightly in a grip that seemed far more powerful than it should have been. The man's rage suddenly turned to anguish and fear as he whimpered in pain.

"I think _you've_ had a bit too much too, my friend," said the coy vagabond as his grip tightened. "Why don't I call you a cab?"

"Yee… O-okay, okay! You win, just let go! Please!" he begged.

My hero released the man's fist, and he crawled away looking like half the man he used to be.

Looking at that creep cower and the smashed glass of liquor, I turned to my hero with awe and wonder. Such strength… was he built like a brick house under all that clothing?

"Are you alright?" he asked me tenderly.

I sighed, "Yes, I think so… Are you? I mean, that guy could have bent you in half."

"I've faced worse… But you're safe now. Just watch out for these bar-hoppers, they can be really nasty."

"Thank you… Robert, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. And you're Juliana, correct?"

"You remember me," I smiled.

"Of course I do, you're one of the few people I know who appreciates my music."

"…You wanna go somewhere? Just hang out?"

"Uh…" he suddenly looked sheepish as his mouth slightly gaped in surprise. "W-why don't I just walk you to your train station? You said yourself it was getting late."

Darn, I really dug a hole for myself there, didn't I? "Okay," I said in defeat.

He quickly grabbed my coat and wrapped it on my shoulders, and together we walked all the way to the train station, hardly saying a word. My eyes were fixed on him the whole way, I really wanted to see his eyes. Why was he hiding them, I wondered? What was there to hide? He seemed so genuine, so kind and selfless. I started to ask myself: Could he be… The One?

When we got to the station and the train rolled up, I thanked him for looking out for me. He gave me a silent nod, as if he were overcome with shyness. I closed my eyes and leaned in for a kiss, but when I opened them, he was gone. Vanished, like a ghost. I must have scared him off- darn these impulses of mine! As I got on the train, I made a vow to myself never to throw myself at a man again, even if he_ is_ The One.

..

..

Days passed, and I had not seen my vagabond- not even in the subway. I was beginning to wonder if I had scared him off for good, or if he had found someone else to look after. But that was selfish of me, and I knew that. Still, it wasn't every day a man comes along and saves me from what could have been a terrible night, and I just had to see him again. I just had to.

On my off days, I wandered the streets, asking around for a Robert Johnson, or a musician with a yellow scarf. No one helped; they said he was spotted but never caught, or that he didn't exist at all. As I passed by the buildings, I failed to notice news reports of an on-going investigation regarding a "computer virus linked to robots." It wasn't my top concern, but it was only a matter of time when my ignorance would come back and bite me.

..

..

On one such day, it happened.

Nightfall came fast, and the temperature began to drop as I walked through the neighborhood park on my way to the train station. A chill in the air caused me to hold my arms in a shudder, and I began to realize that being alone in the dark was not my brightest idea. The park was twice the size of a soccer stadium, and the trees made for great cover for both wild animals and wild people alike. At first, my only comfort was looking up at the clear dark blue sky and its brilliant stars and half-moon, but it did little to keep me safe.

Halfway into the wooded heart of the urban forest, I felt my knees tremble. This was the last place I wanted to be, and I was beginning to curse myself for even thinking of coming here. I felt like something was watching me, something dangerous and close by, just out of my sight. My teeth began to chatter, and it wasn't just because of the cold.

"_Do mi fa… Mi-sol… Do mi me fo-fa mi la do…"_

I thought it was some kind of night bird at first, it definitely didn't sound human. The wind, perhaps? …No, it was a whistle. Someone was whistling. Great. Now they were taunting me.

Then I heard it again: _"Do mi fa… Mi-sol… Do mi me fo-fa mi la do…"_

What followed was the plucking of guitar strings, and the whistling suddenly became a song. "No," I thought out loud. "…Could it be…?" My heart skipped a beat.

Like the figurative moth to the flame, I followed the whistling and guitar strumming, until it brought me at last to my mystery man. There he was, sitting on a park bench all alone, dressed in his dark trench coat and yellow scarf. To my surprise, he was still wearing his sunglasses long after the sunlight had vanished. This above all else confounded me; why would anyone cover their eyes when there was more than enough darkness surrounding them?

My approaching footsteps alerted him, and the music came to a screeching halt. He looked up and saw me standing just a few feet away. We stared at each other for maybe a few seconds, but as I gazed on his angelic face, I lost all track of the time.

"It's a bit late to be out here, don'tcha think?" he said almost condescendingly.

Not to be outdone, I grinned and snapped back with, "Look who's talking." Darn, that wasn't witty at all.

He smirked. "You shouldn't be alone out here. This place is dangerous at night."

"I was just on my way to the train station."

"Ah. Well, in that case…" He rose up from the bench and placed his guitar in the side. As he approached me, he stretched out his left arm. "Would you like me to escort you, milady?"

All of my insides fluttered; suddenly I felt like a maiden in the presence of a white knight. Like any mindless young girl, I grabbed his arm and smiled, "I'd like that. A lot."

He gave me a nod, and together we walked. The two of us seemed to forget all about that old guitar, but neither of us were in a hurry to go back for it.

"So," I commented as he began our arm-in-arm stroll in the park, "do you always pick up lone girls like this?"

"Only if they say yes," he seemed to joke. But just as I let out a small chuckle, his mood suddenly shifted. He dropped his smirk and replaced it with a sullen frown; "Too many people get hurt in places like this. You just never know who's gonna jump you. I always come out here at this time of night, because that's when most attacks tend to happen."

"Attacks?"

"Muggings, beatings….. Other things."

"Oh…"

"I'm just trying to keep the peace, you know?"

"I understand… But Robert, you're just one person. Shouldn't we leave all that to the cops, or something?"

"They never get here in time… Never."

I stopped in my tracks, causing him to stop as well. I turned to face him straight on, no longer fearing for my own safety. "…Who are you, really?"

"Huh?" For once, he looked stunned; his mouth gaped slightly. "What do you mean?"

"You're not like anyone I've ever met before. One minute you're singing on the street for money, and the next minute you're playing vigilante. …I just don't know who you are anymore. I thought I did, but now…?"

His frown came back. "I'm sorry… Does that scare you?"

"N-no… Not really, I guess."

"Because I don't mean to."

"I know… No, I- I trust you, Robert. I just wish I could get to know you better."

He gave a small, coy shrug. "What do you wanna know?"

"Why do you wear sunglasses? …You're not blind, are you?"

"No… Heh. No, I'm not." He blushed, slightly, as if I called him out on something he wasn't even aware of, like a tic one develops from childhood.

"Well," he explained as he shifted his body, "they say that the eyes are the windows to one's soul… I'd rather keep mine shut, so that my enemies don't know what I'm thinking or feeling."

"Your… enemies? …Am I an enemy too?"

I really don't know what came over me when I said that, and the moment those words came out of my mouth, I instantly regretted them. I could clearly see in what little of his face that was visible was a look of utter shame.

"God!" I gasped in horror. "Robert… I- I didn't mean that! I know I'm not your enemy, I didn't mean to…"

Without even realizing it, my hands touched his face, and I suddenly felt an icy chill from his cheeks. He was cold, almost a deathly cold. I swallowed hard; this cold feeling… I know I read it in a novel somewhere, and it wasn't a pleasant sign. I pulled my hands from him, almost fearfully.

"Don't be afraid," he was quick to say. It was as if he could sense my doubts, even though they lasted for only a brief moment. He reached his hand out to me, hoping I would accept it.

To be perfectly honest, I was afraid. Not of getting hurt, but just in knowing that this man was clearly not who he seemed to be. But as I gazed into his face, trying desperately to see past his shades and find his eyes, my fears melted away. I reached out to accept his hand.

_**BOOM!**_

It sounded like thunder, yet there wasn't a cloud in the sky. And it was close, dangerously close. We both jumped out of our skins the moment we heard it.

Robert was quick to scan the area, and somehow through his dark shades he saw a distant battle beginning between a large machine and a small blue figure.

"What was that?" I gasped.

"Trouble," he simply replied. He then grabbed my hand and exclaimed, "This way, follow me!"

His grip on me was tight, almost aggressive, but my legs went into full throttle as he guided me deeper into the wooden area.

.

A stranger to this park, I found myself running into a dark tunnel of trees and brush, my only safety net being the mystery man leading the way with my hand in his. As we raced onward, more explosions followed by strange _"Pew-pew-pew"_ sounds in the distance came closer and closer, as though we were being hunted.

"Robert… slow down!" I cried, feeling my feet lose themselves for a bit. I was certain that he was either going to cause me to fall on my face, or tear my arm off, or both. "Please! I can't run that fast! …Rob-"

"Lookout!" he screamed suddenly, as a red laser tore through a tree that began to crash down on us. He stopped on a dime despite his great speed, causing me to almost certainly fall. But just as I was thrown off-kilter, my legs were lifted from the ground completely.

I closed my eyes and held my breath, and suddenly we were air-born. I heard the tree trunk splash onto the ground, but it never touched us. Amazed, I opened my eyes and realized that I was in the arms of my white knight. In a split second, me managed to scoop me up and made an incredible leap through the air, clearing the fallen trunk completely. In that one quick moment, time stopped for me as I came closer to his face than ever before.

He probably wouldn't want me to say it, but heck I'll say it anyway: in that moment, I caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were as dark and fierce as I imagined they would be, and for a split second I caught them falling on my own. I lost my breath in that moment, and felt completely safe.

With cat-like buoyancy, he landed on his feet and took off in a flash, still holding me like precious cargo. He knew this wooded area inside and out, and despite his great speed he never once collided with a tree or even a root. I felt dizzy after a while, but that just made me hold onto him even tighter. I really don't know what was peddling faster, his feet, or my heart.

.

We came to a sudden stop under a small stone bridge, arced over a small brook. There he placed me gingerly onto the soft ground. I paused to catch my breath, and he gave me comfort with a small pat on my back.

"Are you okay?" he panted.

"Yeah… I think so…" I weakly replied.

But then he caught me by surprise by stating, "You'll be safe here. Stay put."

My eyes bulged. "Wait… What? You're leaving me?"

"Only for a few minutes," he replied as he began to dash away.

I knew right then and there that he was going into battle, and my poor fluttering heart sank like a rock. "No, Robert! Please! Don't leave me!"

He stopped and looked back at me, his shades flashing as a streetlight's beam glazed over them. "I'm coming back for you. I promise." Then, in a flash, he was gone. Vanished, like a ghost.

I should have seen the sign right then and there, but I wanted to brush it off as just a trick of the eyes- he had proven himself to be quite the sprinter, perhaps I blinked and missed his retreat. Common sense was gone, and all I could think of was my beloved knight.

"Robert… Come back! Please, come back!"

.

The mech in question was actually a four-limbed spider-like machine designed for the army as a patrol/reconnaissance probe, but it didn't help matters when the army decided to arm it with exterior Gatling guns and laser cannons. Now the beast was running loose in the city, alerting both the police and everyone's favorite crime-fighting robot, Mega Man.

Flying in on his robot dog, Mega Man let loose his Mega Buster on the spider-mech, going for its legs to immobilize it. But the machine was far more limber than its geometric physique seemed; it bounded away from its attacker with ease, like an actual jumping spider. But the Blue Bomber wasn't giving up that easily; Rush kicked into high gear and flew after it, straight into the local park.

Dozens of civilians fled in terror as the spider-mech launched itself into the wooded area, just barely missing being stomped on. It reared itself on its hind quarters and began to flail its forearms, knocking out the streetlights and anything else it deemed a danger. This had to end.

"STOP!" cried out Mega Man, as he and Rush caught up with the patrol-bot. Waving his arms in front of the beast, he pleaded, "Please, you have to stop! Somebody's going to get hurt! You're an army robot; you're supposed to protect people, not attack them!"

Silly, silly robot. He of all people should have known that rogue machines never listen to reason. It locked onto him and opened fire: **RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT!**

A gust of grey and red, with a trail of yellow, flew in and threw Mega Man out of the line of fire just in the nick of time. Both the blue boy and the grey figure rolled into the brush and out of harm's way. As they paused to regain their bearings, the blue boy looked up and saw that his hero was none other than his estranged brother, Proto Man.

"Always cutting it close, aren't you lil' brother?" grinned the snarky grey robot.

Mega Man blinked in surprise. "Where'd _you_ come from?"

"Nevermind," said Proto Man solemnly. He then glanced up at the mech in his usual snarky attitude. "What's this guy's deal?"

The Blue Bomber sighed, "Some kind of computer virus is going around, making all kinds of robots go crazy. I've got to stop this thing before it kills somebody."

"Sounds like fun," smirked the slightly taller robot as his left fist was replaced with his red buster cannon. "Can I play?"

Always welcoming of help, especially from his brother, Mega Man gave him a happy nod. The two of them warmed up their buster cannons, and jumped into the fray.

.

I could hear the sounds of guns firing, objects being knocked around, and some type of laser noises. But my thoughts were on Robert; I knew he was out there, in the middle of all that chaos and destruction. Why? Was he crazy? Did he really think he had a shot against that…_ thing_? Sure, he could stop a punch and break glass, but this… this was huge. No mere human could hope to win a fight meant for a robot.

"Robert?" I called out in vain. "…Robert! If you're out there… Say something!"

Nothing.

I began to fear the worst, and despite his advice I started to walk away from my hiding spot to get a better view of the action. But within seconds, that action came to me.

"There," pointed the little blue robot, as he flew into the area of his flying dog. "We can corner him down there and force him into the creek. Once he steps in, his legs will get stuck, then we'll nail him!"

On cue, the spider robot leaped out of the darkness, following after the red and grey robots.

The grey one with the red helmet and yellow scarf bounded after them, then his black visored eyes spotted something just a few feet away: Me. He screamed in horror, "Rock, NO! There's a civilian down there!"

"Wha?" gasped Mega Man, but it was too late.

As the beast threw out one of its tentacle-like limbs at Mega Man, he moved out of the way but that limb came hurling toward me as a result. I jumped out of its path just in time, and rolled onto the ground.

"Get her out of here!" yelled Proto Man.

The little blue robot landed his dog by my side and he gently grabbed my arm to help me to my feet. "Are you okay, Miss?"

"I think so," I said while still a bit dazed. "Robert… Where's Robert?"

"Who?" he blinked.

"My friend. His name's Robert Johnson."

The robot boy paused, as though he were Googling that name in his brain. "Robert Johnson… The Blues musician?"

I gasped in surprise. "You know him?"

"Lookout!" hollered Mega Man, who scooped me up into his arms and jumped out of the way of another oncoming tentacle.

The little robot jumped back onto his dog and we took to the sky. This gave me a much better vantage point of the beast that was wreaking havoc, and the little robots who were determined to stop it. That's when my eyes fell on the grey robot with red casings, black visors, and that long yellow…. Scarf…

"My God… Robert?"

He must have heard me, because Proto Man suddenly stopped his assault on the spider-bot, and looked up in my direction. Our faces met for the first time, as our true selves, and we were both frozen in time. But that was more than enough time for the spider-bot to swing its tentacles and swat Proto Man, sending him flying through three tree trunks and into an unseen landing spot.

"Proto Man!" gasped Mega Man in fear.

Quickly, he flew me to an open area, just on the edge of the park, and without speaking another word, he and his dog went flying back into the fray, leaving me behind with my dumbfounded look on my face.

"Proto Man…"

I knew that name, I've heard it before. There were rumors going around about a red and grey robot that looked and acted a lot like Mega Man, but I had never seen him for myself… not until now. It all became so clear now: the sudden appearances and disappearances, the godly strength, the super speed, the need to protect me- no, to protect everyone. He was a robot after all. All this time…

I fell to my knees, while my heart broke into a billion pieces.

After a few minutes, all became quiet. The beast must have been defeated; smoke rose from the distance as a sign of something being decimated. Who gave the final blow, Mega Man or Proto Man? I didn't know… I didn't want to know. So caught up in my distraught was I, that I picked myself up and headed for the train station without a second thought. I just couldn't see him again. Not like this.

..

..

A few more days passed. I had sustained some cuts and bruises from almost getting flattened by the spider-bot, but I soon made a full recovery. Correction: I made a full _physical_ recovery; the mental and emotional scars remained a while longer.

I spent the next days at work hardly uttering a word, unless it was to answer the phone. My co-workers wondered if I was going to be okay, and I gave them a fake smile and a nod.

I had convinced myself that Rob—I mean Proto Man- was either too ashamed or too busy to see me again, because he didn't show up at the subway station or the club where he would play. After a while, I stopped looking for him altogether. Perhaps it was for the best that we never see each other again.

At least, that's what I thought, until one morning when I was exiting the subway for another humdrum day at work when two boys were walking down the sidewalk. One of them was small, about ten years old, with spiky brown hair and wearing a Tee-shirt and blue shorts and white, blue-lined sneakers. The elder donned his ratty old trench coat and black sunglasses, his yellow scarf dangling from his neck. I knew right away who they were, and decided to follow them.

I waited until they came to a stop at the corner to speak out: "Robert Johnson."

He heard my voice and turned around to face me. Both he and his younger brother paused, both curious and taken by surprise. He could see in my face that I was far less pleasant than last we met, but didn't seem too disturbed by the grimace on my face.

"I finally looked that name up," I said in a deadpanned voice. "He was a Blues musician from the 1930s; legend has it he sold his soul to the devil in exchange for his musical talents." 

"I knew that," smiled the smaller boy, proud of himself for getting the reference. After a small turn of his brother's head in disapproval, Rock frowned in guilt. "Oh… sorry."

The robot in the trench coat didn't even flinch upon his lie being exposed; instead he gave a soft sigh in defeat. "I'm not like most robots, Juliana. Sometimes, I feel more like a human than a machine, and once in a while I adopt a name to try and fit in."

"Huh…" was all I could get out.

"I never meant to mislead you."

I gave him a firm nod. "I know."

"…So… do you forgive me?"

My lips curled into a small smile. "Sure…" I then felt a twinge of dread as my smile faded away. "…Is this goodbye?"

He gave a small shrug. "Not really. I'll still be around… Will you?"

"Yes… but it won't feel the same." My gaze fell to the floor in sorrow.

As my thoughts turned to woe, I failed to hear his footsteps approaching me. Suddenly, I felt a small, icy kiss on my cheek. My face felt a chill for a moment, but once I realized what had happened, it turned a lukewarm red.

In a soft voice, he whispered in my ear, "I'm always here for you."

With a new smile on my face, I whispered back, "I know… Thank you."

The younger boy tugged at the elder's sleeve, as if to encourage him to resume their walk. As they turned and began to cross the street, my mouth suddenly fell open and a single word spilled out: "Beautiful!"

Again, they turned to me and paused in surprise.

My face lit up and my true smile returned. "…That's what I wanted to tell you. Your voice is beautiful."

Proto Man slowly gave me a genuine smile back. "Thank you, ma'am." Then he turned and walked away with his brother.

I stood there on that corner for a long time, both proud of myself and saddened that this felt like a last goodbye. Perhaps I would see him again, only this time I would know him better. Perhaps we could even strike a friendship, a long-lasting one at that.

One thing was certain: He wasn't The One.

I sighed, and went back to my life as a secretary for an up and coming law firm. I would look up at the sky and listen to the birds once in a while, and on my worst days, I would close m eyes and hum the blues.

And somehow I just knew, somewhere in this cold and grey city, he was doing the same exact thing.

.

"_Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,_

_It's not warm when she's away._

_Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, she's always gone too long_

_Anytime she goes away._

_Wonder this time where she's gone,_

_Wonder if she's gone to stay?_

_Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home_

_Anytime she goes away._

_And I know, I know, I know…_

_I oughta leave the young thing alone._

_Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,_

_Only darkness ev'ry day._

_Ain't no sunshine whe she's gone, and this house just ain't no home_

_Anytime she goes away._

_Anytime she goes away."_

.

**END**

…

"**(Bring It On) Home To Me" and "Just Another Day," lyrics by Sam Cooke**

"**No Time," lyrics by The Heavy**

"**Ain't No Sunshine," lyrics by Bill Withers**


End file.
